Hi there, Princess!
by ToWriteBlakeOnHerArms
Summary: *Adopted from CakeIsAGoodFriend* Max Batchelder and Max Ride. 2 completely different girls, yet they are 1. Jeb Batchelder is the King of England. Max is the result of a relationship that didn't work out. No one knows she's a princess, not many know Max Batchelder exists. But as Max is forced to go to England for senior year, will some find out? Will Max get her fairytale endi
1. Proluge

**Max POV**

Have you ever tried not existing? Well, I know I have and let me tell you, it's not as bad as it sounds.

Okay, maybe I'm being a bit melodramatic; I mean, I am flesh and blood, not some zombie-type-thing if that was what you were thinking. It was more like a part of me didn't exist. Does that make sense? Probably not. Oh well.

I don't exist because only a hand full of people know I was even born. The only people that knew about me were my mother Valencia, my half sister, my best friend in the entire world, and my father. Other than that, no one knows who I am. Or rather, who I was born to.

Jeb Batchelder, my father, happened to be the king of freaking England. This is the part where you gush and go 'Oh my gosh! You're a princess! What a fairytale.' This is the part where I groan.

I couldn't just be a normal kid with normal daddy issues. Like my half-sister, Ella. She was the result of my mother's, Valencia Martinez, marriage to someone completely unworthy of her baconness. He left like the dick he was, and never came back, never even called to ask how his precious daughter was. See, that is a normal daddy issue. Mine was worse. My dad was condescending, challenging, yet charming all the same. He was condescending while giving compliments and he was the king of backhanded remarks. My dad contacted me once a month to check up on me, whether that was by phone, e-mail, or Skype.

I hadn't actually seen my dad in person for three entire years. And I was fine with that. As I mentioned before, I was a princess. Yet I still am not wearing a huge ball gown, living in a huge castle, or kissing my prince charming. If you expected a fairy tale story with knights in shining armor, palaces and grand balls, what the hell are you smoking?

Trust me, my life isn't a fairy tale. Even if I'm going to start this story the same way….

Once upon a time, Jeb Batchelder was just the prince of England. He was getting older, and by the age of 25 was still not married. Everyone knew he was seeing someone though, that person just so happened to be my esteemed mother. Who, by the grace of god, was an _American_! Oh the horror! Right? No? No. Just because she was American doesn't mean she's a mannerless, no class loser that was going to drag my dad down.

Too bad my father didn't see it this way. Or more accurately, Jeb was too much of a pussy and a mother's boy to do what he wanted and bended to Adelaide's will. That's just an elaborate way to say he kicked her to the curb and drove away without a backward glance or a good bye wave.

Nearly three months of silence, then my mother contacted Jeb out of the blue. At first he was actually happy to hear from her. Despite popular belief, Jeb had cared for my mumsy at one point….just not enough to care what happened to her. When he found out she only called to inform him of his daughter-to-be, he was furious. He called her a slut, a whore. He claimed there was no way in hell that he could be the father. Nine months passed, and the second I was born they had a paternity test done. It was 100% certain that Jeb was my daddykins. Yay me!

He then went forward to tell my mother that no one could know about me. He claimed it was to protect me; my life would be a living hell if anyone even _suspected_ that I was alive and living. We all know the truth. Jeb was too worried what his mommy would say. When Jeb's mom died when I was two, my mom begged him to tell everyone that I was indeed alive. But he refused. That's when I figured out I was always going to be the lowest thing on the priority list when it came to my father.

So, now you know my story. That is why to the world, Maximum Batchelder doesn't exist. Maximum Ride, however, does exist. Oh, yes, I didn't explain that part of the story? You remember the scum who happens to be Ella's dad? The only good thing he left us with besides Ella, was my last name. When my mom married him, we all changed our last name to Ride. But when the idiot left, my mom and Ella changed it back. I didn't, though. Somehow, it suited me, even if it did make me sound like a sleazy prostitute.

It was safe to say that I had daddy issues. My dad and I were never on great terms. Our relationship was just the way I wanted it though, simple. He contacts me once a month, but only when he can get away from his 'royal duties.' I only respond when I feel like it. Most of the time, it takes me until the next month to feel like it. If it isn't yet obvious, I don't really like royalty.

I tried to block out the part of me that said I needed my dad, because I didn't. I was doing perfectly fine here in the States. Sure, I wasn't exactly a social butterfly, but I was fine. Okay, I was a loner at my school. I was a wall flower; a side effect from being a phantom all my life. That's how my best friend used to refer to me as, a phantom. He said it was because I was here, but I wasn't.

Blake and I had met at the palace one time when I was seven and I was visiting my dad on the rare occasions when the palace wasn't swarmed with guests. Needless to say, or at least in my head, good old Jebby boy was _busy. _Ha! Busy my ass, he was off sucking face with Blake's mom.

Anyway, I was wandering around the palace, lost as hell trying to piss off daddy's secretary that was supposed to be watching me while he got hot and heavy. I ended up running into Blake- literally. I was running around a corner because I was caught in the kitchen swiping the second best chocolate chip cookies in the world ( that honor belongs to my mother) and the cook was chasing me. We were 'besties' ever since. Oh yeah, did I not mention? Blake's gay. But that's okay, the best people are. Besides me of course.

Besides Blake, my only other friends were my mom, my sister, and my dog Total. Full house party huh?

Even so, I loved living here in Arizona. The humid temperatures didn't bother me at all and I actually kind of liked school.

Unfortunately, life just loves to hate me. I got a phone call a few days ago. From the king. (I don't really call him dad, in case you haven't noticed.) Normally, this wouldn't be unusual. Except for the fact it was the second time he contacted me this month.

He had called and said that he wanted me to come spend my senior year of high school with him in England. I immediately refused and so did my mom. As I said before, life loves to hate on me. This meant that my dad threw out the 'I have custody, too' card. And in a court of law, who is going to win? The king of England or a suburban mom from Arizona?

That kind of explains why I, Maximum Ride, was on a plane to England. I was spending a year away from Ella, Total, and my mom. I was spending a year with my father.

Yes, all this was happening. Yes, my life was officially over. Yes, my world was crumbling down, but why waste time thinking about that. All I could think was, _I wonder if I'll be able to perfect my accent?_


	2. Smith's Academy for Higher Education

**Max's POV**

When, I arrived in the airport I don't know what I should've expected. If you thought there would be balloons and a huge sign saying 'Welcome, Max!' you were way off.

I looked around the huge airport and finally found a woman around 25 with wavy red hair and a very friendly face. She was holding a sign in her hands. On it were the words 'Maximum Ride.' I walked over to her.

"Hi." I said bluntly. No need to invoke a conversation with a complete stranger. For all I know, she could be a pedophile waiting to draw me into her van! Next, she would tell me she had candy! Over dramatic? Me? Yes you say? Well, no one asked your opinion.

"Hello. You must be Max. I'm Stacy." She chirped and held out her hand. I just stared at it. This chick was seriously peppy. I felt like a world of rainbows and unicorns and butterflies was trying to escort me from the premises. "Come on. I'm going to drive you to your father." She smiled.

"You know my father?" I asked. Not a lot of people know about…well, me, really.

When we were finally in the car, an inconspicuous tan Honda CRV, she responded.

"Of course I know your father. Everybody who works- and basically lives in the manor where you'll be staying knows about you. That would be the chef, the gardener, the maid, and Jeb's personal assistant. I'm the maid." She explained. I nodded even though she couldn't see me with her eyes on the road.

We took many swerve-y turns on the way here and I was beginning to forget my left from my right.

"Is there any easier way to get there?" I complained. I loved rollercoaster's as much as the next girl, but this was seriously messing with my head.

"Yes. But that's at the risk of being followed." She remained happy as ever. Did I ever explain how annoying freakishly happy people are? Very annoying. As in I'm-gonna -bash-my-head-into-the-wall-if-you-don't-shut-up annoying.

"Why can't we be followed?" I asked. I knew the answer; how could I not? I just wanted someone to tell me what I had known for years.

"Because the world still isn't going to find out that you are alive. You are still Maximum Ride. Your father has gone through a lot of trouble to get you here unnoticed." Her peppy tone took on an annoyed tint.

"Yay me." I muttered under my breath, so low even the princess of perfection couldn't hear me.

We finally arrived at the manor and I had to stifle my laughter. The resemblance to a castle was uncanny. I was just waiting for a moat to appear and me to grow 50 feet of hair and allow strangers to climb it. Rapunzel was always stupid. There was no way out. What if this certain traveler was a murderer? Then she was screwed, wasn't she?

I saw my dad waiting in the doorway with open arms and a warm gaze. I was still obviously not over him making me move. I walked up to him, my cold and calculating gaze matching his warm one.

"Max." He smiled and hugged me, obviously disregarding my attitude.

"Way to be a cliché, Jebster." I gestured to the castle-manor. He laughed deeply, like that was some hilarious joke and not a sarcastic comment. I also noticed how he tensed slightly when I called him 'Jeb' instead of 'dad', but he didn't comment on it. Good.

"Come on, I'll show you to your room." I followed him down several hallways and a flight of windy stairs that would be killer to mattress serve down. What? You've never done it? Sucks to be you. Finally, we entered a room that was painted a deep purple and was actually quite modern for such an old house. It had one of those hanging-egg chairs and a pretty big bed.

"I got some advice on how to decorate it from a teenage girl your age." He smiled and I had to resist the urge to do the same. I failed. I know, the great Maximum Ride doesn't fail, but come one, he was my dad. Even if he through my mother away like yesterdays trash, called her a whore and me the product of an affair, and denied my existence to the world, he still cared about me, and I don't have that many people in the world that actually give a shit.

As much as I didn't mix with other girls my age, whoever did this did a dang good job. I set down the luggage in my hands and on my back. I turned to my dad.

"My baby did make it here, right?" I asked.

"You're what?" He sputtered. His face turned red and he looked like he was about to explode. Can someone say Kodak moment?

I put on my exasperated tone, "My motorcycle, Dad."

"Yes, Max. Even though that thing is a metal death trap, it did arrive and you may ride it." He replied. That was one of my conditions on moving; I got to ride my motorcycle everywhere I wanted. Who needed a car, when I had my baby?

"It's getting late, Max. I knew you should've taken an earlier flight. Get some sleep, though. Tomorrow _is_your first day of senior year." He walked out of my room, flicking the light off as he went.

I collapsed on my bed and though. Senior year. Away from my family. And Blake had no clue I was here. And on top of it all, he was making me go to some snotty prep school. Smith's Academy for Higher Education. Named after someone in sometime in history who did something I don't care about. Great.

I hopped off my baby as I arrived in the school parking lot. I was already getting this-chick-is-crazy stares. At my old school, arriving on a motorcycle was normal. Tons of kids had them. Here I could tell it was different.

All the girls were wearing skirts with blouses with the school blazer on top. The school blazer was the only piece of required clothing. I looked down at my old 'Bite Me.' T-shirt and ripped to shreds skinny jeans paired with some trusted converse. Way to stand out, Max. Eh, who cared? I was Maximum Ride. I will take joy in crashing their preppy parade.

I walked up to the front doors and pushed them open. I looked around. Even the hallways looked preppy. It was disgusting. School spirit posters everywhere and tons of gold and white, our school colors. I heard snippets of conversations around me, most of them centered around me and my apparent less than stellar appearance. I didn't care though. I was paying more attention to the butt load of accents making fun of me in not so quiet whispers to give a shit what they were saying.

A mocha-skinned girl came up to me. She was dressed like all the other girls, prep paired with prep and prep, but her smile was sincere.

"Hi. I'm Nudge. I can tell you're new. I was new last year. I know it sucks being the new girl. I have moved so many times. I can help you, though. You can be my friend. It'll be awesome. I can help the wardrobe, too. I know I didn't know what to wear on my first day of school either. I ended up looking as lost as you!" She finished.

I looked at her in astonishment. I would have been pissed at her comment on my clothes if it hadn't been for the fact that she genuinely thought she was helping me. No. What really scared me- amazed me? Scazed me?- was that she could fit all of those words into one sentence.

"Oh," She laughed. "You look scared. My friends always say I talk too much."

"You got that right." I agreed.

"You're American! I can tell by the accent. I'm right, right?" She asked. I nodded.

"Oh my gosh! That is so cool. I have always wanted to go to New York. Have you ever been? Where did you live? I have never been out of England. It sucks." She sighed.

"Um. Yeah, I've been to New York. I lived in Arizona. Listen, do you know where the office is? I have to go there before class." I asked her.

"Yeah it's right there. Three doors down. OMG! That reminds me of the band! Their music is really good! I **love** their song Citizen/Soldier! The lead singer is sooo yummy! Have you seen- "She continued to babble on and on, but I was already walking away.

I walked down the hall until I reached the correct door. I barged into the office and took a seat because there was already a girl at the front desk.

"But, Miss Rews! I'm the student council president. I should decide whether it happens or not." The redhead at the desk whined. She was dressed like the perfect image of prep school girl. Hair perfectly straight, held in place by a thin head band with a flower on it, a plaid skirt, a plain white button up shirt, and matching knee socks. I hated her already.

"I'm sorry, Lissa. The principal has already made up her mind." The secretary, Miss Rews I'm guessing, said.

The girl huffed and walked out the door. Not before eyeing me with distaste, of course, though. I guess, here, my looks don't really earn me any respect. I didn't exactly look like a princess, did I? Oh, the irony.

I went up to the front desk.

"I'm Maximum Ride. I was supposed to come here before class." I said nicely. I don't want to get on anyone's bad side- yet. Well…if you don't include the red headed wonder, of course. But in my defense, I didn't actually **do** anything.

"Ah, yes. The principal's office is right there." She pointed to another door. A room inside a room? Really?

I entered to the smell of overwhelming perfume. A woman who looked to be in her 30s sat at the desk.

"You must be Max." She smiled. "I'm Anne Walker."

"Yep." I took a seat in front of her.

"Here is your schedule, the lunch menu, and the rule guide." She handed me the three things. I immediately put the lunch menu in my backpack. Out of everything that I was ever going to get at school, this would be what I cherished the most.

"I already have the rule guide. My dad gave it to me. I already read most of it through." I said politely, while handing back the rule guide. I didn't really read it. I read the parts on dress code, fighting, and behavioral issues. Those were the only things that I would come close to caring about, but only because they would directly concern me at one point or another this year.

"Good. I hope soon you can come to school with some appropriate attire." She smiled a smile that would have been dazzling, if I hadn't already been frowning.

"What's wrong with the way I dress?" I asked defensively.

"Well, it's… um…" Anne struggled to find the right words.

"I'm wearing my blazer, aren't I? And I am showing way less skin than half the people out there in the mini-skirts are." I let my defensive side completely take over.

"That is a… great point, Miss Ride. You might make a good lawyer someday, with the way you argue. Now, go to class. The bell should ring soon." She said as she ushered me out the door.

Well, so much for not getting on people's bad sides on the first day. But now that that plan is scrapped, I can have so much more fun.


	3. Badass Malibu Barbie

**Fang POV**

"Ughhh…" I groaned and hit the button on my alarm clock. My alarm clock that was currently going off over and over and over. The worst part: it was playing 'Call Me Maybe'.

Yes, that was the intelligent language you got out of I, Prince Nicholas of Spain. You heard me, Spain. Yes, I was the prince of Spain, so I give you my permission to bow down and kiss my feet. Just kidding.

All the idiots out there are probably wondering how I speak English. Truth is my mom was English. She's actually the daughter of one of the members of Parliament. I spoke English so well there wasn't even a tinge of an accent in my words.

As I threw on my wardrobe (black t-shirt, black slacks, and dark blue blazer), I looked out the window at English landscape surrounding my house. You heard me, _English _landscape. As in, not Spanish. You are probably thinking, what the hell is the prince of Spain doing in England?

Well, I'll tell you. My father wanted me to go to school at one of the most prestigious schools in the entire world. For those of you who didn't know, prestigious in this sense is just a fancy way to say stick-up-ass like people went there. The type of people that don't know how to have fun, the type of people that have too much fun, and the type of people that have their noses so far up their asses they wouldn't know fun if it was rammed into their head. Or should I say asses? You know, because their heads are up their asses. Yes? No? Never mind.

Even with the possibility of the school being full of bitches and sluts, I still jumped at the chance to get out of Spain. Moving to England meant getting away from my horrid stepmother, who would never replace my dead mother, even though she bossed me around like she owned me and treated my dad like a slave; two things I can assure you no mother, let alone my own ever did. I knew going here would be an opportunity to get away from the wicked witch of Spain, so I jumped at it. So now I'm living in England with my best friend Gazzy, who was the only real friend I ever had.

Gazzy's mother was a close friend to my mother. I shouldn't even have to specify which person I'm talking about, that sorry excuse for a person will **neve**r be my mother. When they heard I was going to the same school that Gazzy was already registered at, they were all too happy to take me in.

So, yeah, as you could probably tell, my life was a bit of a complicated mess. Like any other teen in the world, I had parental issues. The only difference is that they weren't yelling at me for sneaking off to a party, they were in an entirely different country, and they didn't exactly seem like they wanted me back. But I was fine with it. Gazzy's mother acted how my mother acted before she passed and it was awesome living with your best friend. Don't even ask why he's called Gazzy though. That's when it's not so good to be living with my best friend. No matter how much I love Gazzy- in a totally manly way, of course- my nose can only take so much, especially on taco day at school.

Okay, back to the groaning. The groaning from this morning was because today was the first day of senior year. Yes, hoorah! Another year of preppy girls ogling me. Except that I knew all too well that they wanted me for my body, my prince-ly-ness, and my exceptionally handsome face. Not for my personality. Not for me. I have to say, I am never that personal, so it is a bit hard to like me for me, but none of them even try. It's like they don't give a shit what's underneath the face, which, sadly, is probably the truth. The only people who know the _real_ me are Gazzy and his mother.

By the real me, I meant the one without the condescending smirk, I-know-you-want-me attitude, and the one who acted like he could care less. So basically, that was how I acted at school.

The reason that I knew girls didn't like me for me was because of one girl, Lissa Brown. Head of the student body. She was the most wanted girl in the school and I was the most wanted guy. That was why it was obvious that we should date. We did throughout sophomore year and I really opened up to her. I realized she only liked me for my prince factor when I found her making out with some random jock on the side. I never trusted anyone besides Gazzy with the real me again. Sure, I made out with a girl at the occasional party, but never anything serious. Never anything that I thought- or wanted- to last.

"Fang! What are you doing up there? You missed breakfast! We have to leave. Now!" I heard Gazzy shout up the stairs.

That was another thing. My nickname. Only Gazzy called me it, to everyone else I was Nick or Nicholas. When I was little there was an incident with a kid from school who was pissing me off. I bit him. End of story. Goodnight. Goodbye.

I raced down the stairs and ran out the door with Gazzy. We both hopped in Gazzy's mom's van. Yeah, it stunk. And not just because Gazzy's stink was eternally caught in between the fibers in the seat. Gazzy and I couldn't get our own cars. Whatever.

When we arrived I was bombarded by my Fang-girls. (Ha-ha! See what I did there? Fan-girl? Fang-girl? Play on words. Oh, nevermind.) Gazzy was able to ward them off with his special… ability. Let's just say people ran away screaming, holding their noses with tears in their eyes. Ahh..Gazzy, what would I do without you? That's when I heard the rev of a loud engine and Gazzy and I both turned our heads to see a blond on a motorcycle.

She took off her helmet and shook out her hair. God, it was like one of those sexy hair commercials. I could see almost every guy in the parking lot's stares on her. With her shredded skinny jeans and tight t-shirt, she most definitely did not fit in with our school's preppy atmosphere. She looked like a… badass version of Malibu Barbie. The dirty blond hair, the tan skin, the tall and athletic build; it most definitely looked like a badass Malibu Barbie. And I bet every guy in school was going to be battling to be her Ken.

"Wow. That is hot." Gazzy said while staring. The girl obviously did not notice the guys ogling her while she walked into the main building.

I sighed, and followed Gazzy into the main building. I got to my new locker where my schedule was waiting inside. I stood there as long as I could before the bell rang. I stalled by walking the opposite direction of my classroom and toward the water fountain.

I actually passed badass Malibu Barbie and saw her gaze was on me. I gave her my classic smirk that most girls swoon over. She turned her head, but was most likely no different than other girls. Wanted to date me because I was Prince charming. Literally.

I finally got up to go to my first class, History, where I found Malibu Barbie talking in the doorway with the school chatterbox, Nudge. I only knew her because Gazzy has had a crush on her since forever.

Nudge soon turned to take her seat but Barbie was still blocking the doorway.

I walked up to her.

"Hey Barbie. You're blocking the doorway." I said to her with a sneer. The sooner I could turn her off me, the better. This was a good place to start.

She scoffed, "Me? Barbie? Are you out of your mind? Tell me, do I **look** like your average slut to you? Back off …what's your name?" I gaped at her. I could tell she was American. But she didn't know who I was? That hasn't happened since….well, that's never happened actually.

"You don't know who _I_ am?" I asked incredulously. She had to be playing around. I mean, not to sound conceited or anything, but **everyone** knew who I was, ever since **birth**.

"No. How should I? I'm new." Her face kind of scrunched together, as if she was actually trying to figure out who I was. It was actually kind of cute…

"Yes. I'm the Prince of Spain. Nicholas. Ring any bells?" I asked. Obviously she had to know me now. Right?

"Nope. But I should have known you were a royal, with the condescending smirk you wear you make it obvious." She turned and strutted away, sitting down next to Nudge. And I shamelessly admit I watched her the entire way.

Wow, Malibu Barbie was a piece of work. A girl actually not swooning over me? And what did she have against royals? We're not all that bad…

That's when I vowed that I would figure out Malibu Barbie. Where is the best place to start? Oh, yeah. Maybe her name?


	4. Fnick?

**Hello peoples! I'm really happy with all the support I'm getting with this story. I even got a review from Cake! Yaaaaaaay!**

**I do not own Maximum ride, but a girl can dream, can't she?**

* * *

**Max POV**

The nerve that guy had! The nerve! No one calls me Barbie. Not unless they are prepared to die a slow, painful death. Possible by dog-human hybrids. Hmmm….

How did he even think I looked like Barbie? As far as I could tell, I wasn't wearing pink or in a dress. Unless maybe Nudge and this preppy school rubbed off and made my clothes pink!

I glanced down in horror. Nope, still normal.

I looked to my right as someone plopped their ass down in the seat next to me. Oh, look. Joy, it was my fancy Prince of Where Ever He Said. Aww…poor chair. It has to deal with the smug piece of shit from…Yeah. I didn't remember. I was a little side tracked. I mean, Barbie. Come on.

"Hello kids." The teacher droned from the front of the classroom. "This is your history class this year. I'm Mr. Hunter. The seat you're in is the one you'll be in all year. I will now pass the seating chart around and you can write your name in the space you're sitting at."

I groaned, earning some looks from around the room. I just shot them all glares in return. The reason for the groaning is my seat placement.

Pros: I'm next to Nudge. Cons: I'm next to _Nudge_. Will my hearing even be intact by the end of this year? Will I even be able to make it through the year without duct taping her mouth shut? NO to the latter. I don't have _that_ kind of self control. Plus, there is stupid royal boy. I wish he were not a complete jerk. He's pretty hot…

I did _not_ just think that. I am Maximum Ride, and I don't fall for royals. Nothing good comes out of it, just ask my mom.

Okay, get a grip Max. I saw royal boy scribble down his name and pass the sheet to me.

I wrote 'Maximum Ride' in my messy scrawl and handed the clipboard to Nudge.

"So… Maximum Ride? That's an interesting name." The Prince of Idiocy said to me. I just looked straight ahead. I tried to pay attention to the boring history drabble that my teacher was droning on about, but it was hard with _him_ in my ear.

"I mean, I always thought Max was a boy name. Except when it's short for Maxine. I like it though, Maxie. Can I call you Maxie?" Prince-y boy asked.

I kept my eyes trained on the teacher, but spoke to him clearly.

"No. You may not call me Maxie. Nothing but Max. And will you just shut up? You're worse than Nudge." I whispered.

He smirked again, "That's funny. I have the reputation of being the silent guy around here. Guess you just have an effect on me, huh?"

"You are definitely _not_ silent. Just wondering, is there any way I can reverse that effect?" I shot back at him. God, how much I wished he would just shut. Up.

"Oh, of course there is. Become the opposite of yourself. Get up in front of the room and confess how much you love unicorns, ponies, makeup, and dresses." He said. Then he smirked. As if he actually thought I was gonna do it. Or he was imagining me doing it. NOT LIKE THAT YOU PERVE!

Despite myself, I was smiling. "You don't think I love ponies and unicorns?"

He shrugged, "You don't seem the type."

"How dare you. I am an animal lover. I have a black Scottie back home in Arizona."

"Are you sure you don't kick it?" He asked.

"No!" I said, a little louder than I had wanted to.

"You two. In the back. Stop the chitchat. Since it's the first day, you're off the hook. But next time, you'll both have detention." Mr. Boring warned.

I shut up and so did the Prince boy. I almost snorted, though. Detention? That was his punishment? I got detention nearly every week back in Arizona. I doubt pretty boy Prince could handle that, though. Royals don't usually take well to punishment.

After 1st period the day sped quickly to lunch. It was all a blur of boring teachers, boring subjects, boring people, and many a shouts at me to "Shut up!".

I looked around for a while until I spotted Nudge frantically waving me over, her arms flailing around her, nearly taking down three innocent pedestrians. One guy lost his lunch. The poor bastard.

"Max! Max! MAX!" She yelled, as if I could not see her, waving her arms as if she was landing a plane or something.

"Way to be subtle, Nudge." I plopped down next to her.

There was a blond boy sitting next to her. He had pure blue eyes and, for lack of a better term, a Bieber cut.

"I'm Gazzy." He extended his hand and I shook it. Then instantly regretted it. Do I want to know what that slime was?

"Max." I replied. He had a weird name, but who am I to judge? "Do I want to know what was on your hand?"

"Probably not." He said, shrugging his shoulders and smiling innocently. Huh, sneaky little-

"Iggy! Iggy! IGGY!" Nudge called out to a tall as hell ginger with blue eyes that had just walked into the cafeteria. He looked to have been talking to a girl. Haha, not anymore. You know, ginger's do have souls, just ask that freaky dude on youtube, he spent like three minutes preaching about it.

"Does she do that to everybody?" I asked Gazzy.

"Yup." He nodded.

I shook my head, "And here I thought I was special."

The tall boy sat down.

"Iggy, I presume?" I asked him.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" He asked. Sad thing was, he looked serious, though I knew he was kidding…I think.

"I don't know. The Nudge-screaming-your-name-from-across-the-room was a bit of a give-away." I smiled.

"Great, Nudge. You picked a sarcastic one." He turned to Nudge.

"I say sarcasm is the best kind of humor." A new voice said.

"Me too." I looked up to see his royal highness at sitting down next to Gazzy. "Hey, it's Pretty-Boy Prince!" I exclaimed at the sight of him.

"And Malibu Barbie." He retorted.

"I thought we were over that." I whined. Why did emo dude have to ruin everything? He was totally harshing my mellow.

"You started it back up again with the Prince thing." He shrugged.

"That's only because I don't know your real name." I pointed out. "And would you prefer I called you emo boy instead?" I questioned, looking up at him with a look of complete innocence. Yeah right, I haven't been innocent since I knew how to blow up a whoopy cushion.

"I'm not emo." He said, sounding slightly irritated. But come on! Look at him! If that doesn't scream emo, nothing does.

"That doesn't mean I still don't know your name." I pointed out, once again. This kid was really slow.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "I told you before class."

"Like I was listening." I smirked.

"You obviously heard the prince part." He muttered. "I'm F-Nick."

"Fnick?" I burst out laughing. "Having an identity crisis Prince Fnick of Emoland?"

Gazzy shared a glance with him before he said, "Nick."

"You are officially Fnick in my book now." I grinned. Nick let out a half-smile. I'll call him Nick in my head; I don't have a need to embarrass him in here. I'll do enough of that in the real world.

"Gazzy, are we still going to hang at your house today?" Nudge asked.

Gazzy face palmed. Literally. As in, he seriously smacked his face with his hand. Idiot. "I completely forgot. I'm babysitting Angel today."

"It's cool. Igs and I will come help." Nudge smiled. Was there something more with those two…? I snapped back from my drifting thoughts.

"Angel?" I asked.

"My little sister. She's 6." Gazzy explained.

"What is with these names?" I sighed, exasperated. I swear; they're making **my** name sound normal! And my name sounds like a stage name for a pole dancer!

Just then… Gazzy, erm, tooted. And it was awful. Like cover-your-nose-oryou-will-keel-over-and-die awful. And trust me, I was too young to die.

"Okay!" I coughed. "I get why you're Gazzy. I won't ask about your names any more!"

"Good. Not that your name is normal, Maximum." Nick smirked.

"Oh, you're one to talk, Fnick." I rolled my eyes.

"So, Max, want to help us baby-sit?" Nick asked.

"Sure. I've got nothing better to do." I said. I was quickly getting over the fact that Nick was royalty and accepting the fact he was a human being, like myself.

And as for babysitting, I'm great with kids. Besides, how much trouble can one little girl be?

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**Like it? Hate it? Betterer? Worser? Review? Pweeeaaaase?**


	5. Unicorns

**I know, I suck. I went back to school this week and both my Algebra and French teacher are determined to ruin my life. Not to mention the fact that I already have a time consuming project to do. Sorry! Here is chappie numero cinqo!**

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**Fang's POV**

"Just follow my car. Kay, Max?" Iggy asked. We were all heading to mine and Gazzy's house to take care of Angel.

Honestly, I don't usually hang with Gazzy's friends 'cause they either annoy the shit out of me, or they call me emo- which I am NOT- but because Max was going to be there, I figured I'd go so I could spend more time with her. Wait! I did NOT just say that. Okay? You didn't read anything.

We all headed to the elementary school to pick Angel up first, though. Gazzy's mom couldn't because she was working extra hours at her office. Gazzy spent forever bitching about it last night, but Ms. Smith looked like she was about to murder Gazzy when he kept complaining. She even threatened to shove his head up his ass then stick a knife up his ass and split his butt crack.

You see, Ms. Smith is a very kind hearted, cool tempered person. So you can see why Gazzy looked like he was gonna piss himself, and I was practically rolling around on the floor laughing. Then she threatened to shove Gazzy's head up **my** ass. I stopped laughing after that.

"Okay." Gazzy announced. "Nick and I will go in and pick up Angel and then we can all head to my house."

"I'm coming in, too. I want to meet the famous Angel." Max smirked. I knew what she was thinking. She was secretly calling us all pussies for being afraid of babysitting a little kid, whose name is _Angel_ no less, but she didn't know Angel like I did.

"You had better be good with kids…" I muttered. Angel was a handful. A big handful. As in, your-hand-better-be-the-size-if-freaking-god-to-handle-her.

"I am." She smiled and followed Gazzy and I to the pick-up zone at the elementary school.

We all walked inside. Angel spotted us and sprinted up to us, her teddy bear Celeste bouncing around behind her, her tiny hands barely holding onto her as she hurtled towards us.

"Gazzy, Fang!" She wrapped her wiry arms around our legs, clinging to us like Rose did to Jack in _Titanic. _Don't ask how I know that, please. I beg of you, just, don't.

"Fang?" Max asked, her eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Yeah… It's… um, my nickname." It's a bit weird telling someone you've known for a day a nickname you only let your best friend use. Especially when the person you tell just happens to ne the girl that has you waking up, if you know what I, mean. And when she seems to harbor a hatred for "your kind".

"I like it. It has a nice ring to it." She said with an air of finality, as if because she deemed it fit, I am still allowed to be called it.

"Who are you?" Angel asked, peering up at Max.

She squatted down to Angel's height. "Hi, I'm Max. I'm Gazzy and Fang's friend." She smiled sweetly, a look that could melt butter.

Angel smiled back toothily. "Fang doesn't have many friends. That makes you special." Angel hugged Max fiercely for a six-year old. She was squeezing Max so hard that not only were her arms, but Max's as well were turning white.

I tried not to let my embarrassment from Angel's comment show. She was right, though. I don't have many friends. Usually that didn't bother me, and I would slaughter anyone that said anything about it, but for some reason I didn't want Max to think I was a loser. I wanted her to see me as cool, likeable. _'Dateable'_. A voice inside me whispered.

'**Shut up inner voice!**'

"These are delicious Iggy!" Max exclaimed, taking her first bite of Iggy's chocolate chip cookies. She looked like she was about to explode in happiness. Her face was split into this huge grin and her eyes were alight and shining. _'How the hell do cookies make one person this happy?'_ "These could rival my mom's."

We all were just sitting and talking while Angel played with her dolls. Every so often she would ask one of us to play, but today she was very relaxed. She didn't whine about being bored or order us to play house. Somehow I always managed to be the dad. I'm not gonna tell you who the mom is, let's just say **he** was 6'3" and strawberry blond. Yep, today's a good day.

"So… why did you move, Max?" I asked the question I had been wondering for a while. Why would someone like **her** want to go to a school like **ours**?

She shrugged, "My dad and mom split up before I was born. I've lived with my mom all my life, but my dad used to contact me every month. He decided he wanted me to spend senior year in England and here I am." She tried to sound nonchalant about it, but I knew she was harboring some kind of hatred for her dad, even if it was deep down. Something in her voice said that even if we had questions, she wasn't going to answer them.

"Why are _you_ here? What about Spain?" She asked me. Smart, trying to turn the attention to me.

"It's one of the top schools in the world and my dad wanted me to go here." I explained. It was part of the truth. It _was_ a good school, but that's not why I came. And my dad did want me to come here, but I did it to get away from him.

"What's New York like?" Nudge asked.

"Crowded. I don't like it much, I always feel like I'm about to be smushed or run over." Max laughed. Then she got this distant look in her eyes, like she was remembering something that was centered on a major thing that happened to her. She was so consumed in her memories that she didn't notice me ask her a question. At that moment I wanted to go with her. I wanted to follow her into her world and see what she saw. I wanted to know her, and it scared me.

"Why do you hate royalty?" I asked again. That time she heard me. She looked like she was crashing through a glass wall just to answer my question.

"I don't hate royalty." She replied quickly.

"Do you remember what you said when you first met me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I just think they're snotty and condescending."

"Well, they aren't anything like you see on TV." She probably hasn't ever met a real royal before me, so I felt obligated to point this out. How could she, she's American, they don't have royalty over there.

"Dually noted." She nodded. "What's up with the redhead?"

"Who?" Gazzy asked.

"Um… can't remember the name. Red hair, green eyes, tall, better than everyone else, stick up her ass, ring any bells?" She asked.

I felt my fist clench. I knew who she was talking about. I knew her a little too well for my liking.

"Lissa." I muttered.

"Oh, yeah! That was her name. I saw her in the office this morning. I don't think she likes me very much…" She trailed off.

"What would make you think that?" Iggy asked.

She shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe the obvious what-is-_wrong_-with-you look."

"Yeah." I said. "She gives those out a lot."

"So what's her deal?" Max asked.

"She's been student body president for all four years here. Which actually sucks because I have tried to be president, too! But I didn't get enough votes. Now I'm only Vice President. But anyway! Lissa is the most popular girl in school. I personally just think she's feared and that I would be way better for agufrufnv-" Gazzy slapped a hand over Nudge's mouth.

"I dated her." I said bluntly.

Max's eyes turned to meet mine. "I'm guessing that didn't end out well… did it?"

I shook my head. "I probably should've known she wasn't worth it before I started dating her." I quickly tried to turn the sad atmosphere around. "But that's in the past. Now, what does everyone want to do?"

"I say we should all talk about our favorite things!" Angel jumped up and sat on Max's lap.

"Um… I don't know, Ange." Gazzy tried to say.

"Now!" She demanded. Angel was nothing if not intimidating. She once convinced her math teacher to move a timed test to a week later. She got Gazzy to stop farting for a week. She got me into a dress! This kid's got skills. And puppy dog eyes.

"Okay." Gazzy gulped.

"Yay!" Angel clapped. "My favorite animal is a pony."

"Mine's a wolf. Jacob…" Nudge got a dreamy look in her eyes. Do I want to know who the hell "Jacob" is?

"Um… a frog?" Gazzy tried.

"Hawks." Max and I answered at the same time.

"Freaky…" Nudge commented.

"I said it first." Max argued.

"No I did." I retorted.

"You both said it at the same time, dimwits." Iggy said. Max and I both turned to glare at Iggy.

He wasn't fazed at all. "I like unicorns!" He yelled.

"They can't be fictional, Iggy." Angel giggled.

"Oh, unicorns are real." Iggy scooped Angel out of Max's lap. "They have a horn right here." He poked the middle of Angel's forehead.

Angel had this effect on people. She made people just want to cuddle her and treat her like the best thing in the world. I always say she'd make a good dictator one day…

"_What are you so scared of? Judgments not unfair it's, what we've learned to –"_

I heard a phone go off and I immediately checked my pockets. Nope, not me.

I looked up and saw Max talking.

"Uh-huh… I'm fine… At a friend's house… Yeah, I'll come home." She sighed and hung up.

"I have to go." She said.

"Why?" Nudge asked.

"My dad." She sighed and walked out the door.

As she walked out, I really wanted to follow her. I really wanted to. But I didn't.

_You just met her Fang, what's wrong with you?_

The answer to that was easy. I don't know.


	6. What Fairy?

**So I know this took forever, and it's a little short, but I promise I'll have another chappie done by the weekend! **

**Disclaimer: These things are really starting to make me sad. Good job James! Way to ruin a young girls dream!**

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Max's POV

Sooooo…. I was babysitting. Yay! Let's just say I'm not exactly the world's best babysitter. I tried it once when I lived in Arizona, and it didn't end well. I was babysitting my mom's bosses daughter, this supposedly angelic little five year old that was as quiet as a ghost. It was supposed to be an easy twenty bucks. Read that little word that said "supposed", yeah, sadly, I have to add that to my sentence.

For those of you that are all like *insert high falsetto here*, "Oh, but Max, you seem like you would be so good with kids. Especially little girls that like playing dress up and putting on makeup and having tea parties and eating little finger sandwiches, while holding your pinkie finger out, 'cause you know that it just isn't fancy if you don't hold up your pinkie. God Max, you should really take etiquette lessons from this little girl, she seems to be waaaaaaaay more proper than you! No offense, of course, but you're like, not exactly….. girly. And anyways, being girlier could totally help you get a boyfriend. OOOOOOHHHH! I bet Fang would -."

Okay, that was scary. I'm obviously spending waaaay too much time with our dearest friend Nudge, because my subconscious sounded creepily like her. But did you get the message? For those idiots out there that started sounding like…._Nudge_ get your godforsaken head out of your ass and pay attention.

For those of you that are smarter than your average rabbit, I honestly hope you were thinking things more along the lines like, "Oh HELL nah! Who the hell had that bright idea of letting MAX near little children with a stove within reach. She'll have to _cook_! She'll have to be, dare I say it, _tolerant_! Maybe even _nice_! Oh god, the zombie apocalypse is coming for us all! The world id ending! Tell my mother..I….love her."

First off, ha. Ha. You. Are. Fucking. _Hilarious_. For your information, I didn't even need to cook, we ordered pizza. I'm glaring holes into your head right now. It kind of lost its effect though, because, you know, you can't, see, me. Yeah. Well…..never mind. Don't judge me!

And the zombie apocalypse **is** coming! That is something no mere mortal should joke about. But laugh all you want. When the zombies burst through your door ready to eat your non existing brains, don't come crying to me! I shall be safe, flamethrower spitting flame better than Toothless, the bravest little dragon **eva**!, kicking ass. In the end, I shall rule the world as the zombie queen, and I shall use you as food for my subjects. Mwahahahah!

Yeah. That was really weird. Blame the school cafeteria. There was something seriously not right with my "taco". Is meat supposed to be grey?

So anyway, my babysitting adventures didn't go to well. That kid, _Sydney, _was tha farthest thing from angelic that anyone could have produced. That thing was the devil's spawn. I still shudder thinking about her.

It all started when the adults left. Then, Sydney went from subdued and quiet, to loud, talkative, and manipulative. Within an hour, she had me splattered in green paint practically from head to toe, the house was torn to shreds, and the kitchen smelled like cat pee. They don't have cats, Mrs. Aldine is allergic. It might have been Sydney's pee. I wouldn't put it past that little "_girl" _to pee in her own kitchen, just so I would have to clean it up. Yay me! Please, please note the sarcasm. If you didn't, you are dimmer than Fangles's star wars nightlight. OH, come on, we all know he has one. What teenage boy that wears jeans _that_ tight doesn't have a nightlight of _some_ kind.

I went upstairs to take a shower at like ten thirty or something, after I _thought_ Sydney had passed out on the floor. I had cleaned the kitchen. I found some rather…interesting… things hiding under all the mess on the floor. Let's just say, I do not want to know why Mrs. Aldine has a well worn whip.

When I had just started shampooing, I heard the door open, a cold breeze following. When I say cold, I mean like wholly- shit- it's-january-and-I'm-naked-in-five-inches-of-snow-in-the-middle-of-Central-Park-and-kids-are-throwing-snowballs-at-me. Yes, it was that cold. I heard giggling, followed by a second of silence, before the door slammed closed. '_Sydney,' _I thought. I quickly finished washing my hair, then I shut off the water quickly and yanked the curtain aside. Sitting on the toilet seat, just where I left it, was my towel. Only my towel. That little piece of shit was soooooo gonna get it.

I wrapped the towel around my torso, then stormed out of the bathroom, fuming and silently thinking that this kids parents were gonna come to find her hanging by her finger nails.

I looked everywhere. That little shit was nowhere to be seen. I opened the front door, looking out and calling for her. Of course, the devil reincarnate decided then would be a good time to show up behind me and push me outside, taking my towel with her as she slammed the door and locked it.

So now here I am, naked, outside, with a car pulling into the drive way. _Shit_.

The next thing I know, Mr. and Mrs. Aldine walk up to the front door. Mrs. Aldine gasps in surprise, while Mr. Aldine just stands there staring at my chest. Then the worst happens; his nose starts bleeding. To be honest, I'm not exactly "flat chested", in fact, I was a solid 34 C, but it was creepy having a 40 something year old _married_ man staring at my chest, was not what I would call flattering. I didn't babysit again after that.

But of course, there was no way in hell I was telling Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome that. Wait! I did NOT just say that! You heard nothing! I meant, Mr. Tall, Dark and _Ugly _obviously. You must be reading things wrong…or maybe…ummmm. Oh screw it! Fine! Fangles is hot! But that doesn't mean he can't kiss my ass for being a cocky, arrogant, son of a b-

"Max! Don't say that! There might be little kids listening to you!"

_Nudge? When the hell did you get in my head?_

"He, he, he. The fairy let me in."

I'm going insane….

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**I know it's short, but you can shoot me later. Preferably after you review! Please Review! Pweeeeeeeeaaaaaasies!**


	7. I Suck

I know, this is not an update, and I know this is not what you want to hear, but I just don't think I'm going to be able to continue this story. The reason I haven't been updating is because my grades weren't the best at the beginning of the year, and my parents flipped their shit, so I stopped updating and focused on my grades. Then they said that I should save writing FanFiction until the summer. At first, I refused, but then I got to thinking. I apply to schools next year, and I'm taking the SAT's soon. I really just don't have enough time for this like I thought I would. I was wondering if anyone woukd be interested in adopting this story. If so, send me a PM and let me know. I'll have the winner up by Tuesday at the latest, based on how many responses I get. Thanks for understanding!

~_**ToWriteBlakeOnHerArms**_


	8. Adopted

So I'm back, and I do have the winner of the adoption contest. I had a few people that I thought would do well with this story, but one person really stood out. Congratulations to ItsThatGirlAgain, the new author of Hi There, Princess! I'd like to thank everyone who wanted this story, and I want to apologize for not being able to give this story what it needed. I honestly thought I could do it you guys. I'm sorry I let you down.  
~ToWriteBlakeOnHerArms


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